


Luminary

by Teadum



Series: Luminary [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:16:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teadum/pseuds/Teadum
Summary: You are Peter Parker's older sister. After getting your brother back, you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep him safe; even if that means working with Nick Fury.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the title/‘superhero’ name will make sense when I explain her powers later on, promise
> 
> also this story has a needlessly complicated backstory and a fully fleshed out, actually-makes-sense-in-canon origin story for the reader’s powers which I put WAY too much thought into so I’ll try to work it in throughout but like, sorry I can’t just write shit without making it complex for literally zero reason

June 26, 2024

You squint as you exit the car, your hand moving up to block the sun as you examine the scene around you. There was nothing but rubble left of the small Mexican town, buildings lay crumbled as their inhabitants wander the wreckage with listless, empty faces.

“This was a tragedy, but it hardly seems like the next big threat Nick.” Agent Hill said, walking up beside Fury.

“The locals said the cyclone had a face; doesn’t that sound like our kind of thing?” He replied, raising an eyebrow. You walked past them to examine the area, wholly disinterested in their conversation. You didn’t know what Fury and his team were really up to now that the Avengers were all but finished, and as long as they kept your brother out of it you honestly didn’t care.

When Fury had asked for your help on this mission, you had initially declined. You weren’t an Avenger, and you had no intention of becoming one now just because the Earth’s supply of superheros was running low. Sure, you’d been involved in the effort to bring everyone back from the snap, and then fought in the battle that followed, but that didn’t make you one of them. You had only wanted to bring your family back, and now that you had your hero days were done.

That was the plan anyway, but when you told Fury you weren’t interested, he made it clear that if you wouldn’t help him, Peter would. So, to keep Fury and his people from dragging your brother into more danger, you reluctantly agreed to help. If tagging along on a mission here and there was enough to appease Fury and keep him from calling on your brother to fight, how could you say no?

As you gazed across the wreckage, a cloud of green smoke suddenly appeared in front of you. Your guard was up in an instant, and in a split second Fury and Hill had their guns up and ready to fire. A man wearing strange armor rose out from the cloud, his blue eyes shooting a hasty, confused look in your direction, before they settled on Nick Fury. 

“You don’t want any part of this.” He said quickly, before throwing his hands forward. The same green smoke from before shot forward from his outstretched palms, and you turned to watch as it shot past the three of you and hit the swirling vortex of sand that was materializing out of the ground behind you.

Fury and Hill began shooting the monster as it formed itself into the shape of a man. It raised an arm, readying itself for a large strike. You ran forward, throwing your arms up to bring a dome of solid, shimmering light around you and the others. Before the creatures arm had a chance to land, the strange man was flying forward, shooting it with more beams of green smoke. A beam hit the elevated arm, severing it, and the now-freed sand blew away harmlessly in the wind.

You stared as the stranger continued his onslaught of the creature. Wave after wave of green smoke attacks taking more and more chunks of the monster out. Finally he build up the smoke in either hand, flying down fast and crashing directly into the creature, causing an explosion of earth and dust. 

You watched breathlessly as the man emerged from the cloudy remains of the monster, his chestnut hair disheveled across his handsome, bearded face. Fury stepped forward, gun down but ready, and Hill followed closely behind him. 

“Thanks for the help, stranger.” Fury said coolly, examining the man as he walked toward the group. 

“Not at all; it’s why I’m here.” The man replied, his voice smooth and clear. 

“What does that mean?” Agent Hill shot back, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“It’s a long story.” He said, eyes moving from Hill, lingering on you, before looking back to Fury. “We should talk.”

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Hill found a building in the town that was damaged but still standing, and–after checking to make sure it was both safe and empty–you all filed in. The three of you looked at the man expectantly, he stared back, fiddling absentmindedly with the gold ring on his finger as he thought of where to begin.

“Perhaps we should start with some introductions. My name is Quentin Beck.” He said finally, extending his hand to the group. Quentin Beck. The name sounded familiar to you, but you couldn’t place where you’d heard it before. None of you reached out to take his hand, the silence growing long between you.

“You explain who you are and what that thing was, then maybe we tell you our names.” Fury finally spoke. The stranger–Quentin–finally put his hand down, a smirk on his face.

“Fair enough,” He said. “But where to even begin.” He ran his hand through his think hair, bushing his bangs back across his head.

Quentin then laid out a story; one of multiple Earths and monstrous elemental beings. He told you he was a warrior from another dimension, one who’d fought these monsters before on his own Earth, until one of them managed to do the unthinkable. His Earth was destroyed, and everyone he knew, including his family, was gone. He, the sole survivor, managed to come to your Earth through a dimensional tear that was created during the snap, and he’d been here ever since, alone, ready to stop the elementals whenever they appeared.

As he spoke of his family, he spun the ring on his finger, looking pensively at the ground. You felt a twinge of sympathy rise in your chest; you knew all too well the pain of losing a family, having been the only member of your household still standing after the snap. You were away at school when it happened; you came home to find May gone, Peter missing. You held out hope that maybe he survived with the others in space, only to have that shattered when Tony Stark returned to tell you Peter was gone. 

It was a dark time for you, and you knew it’s not the sort of pain you forget easily. Those five years without them it had never once felt any less heart wrenching, any less hopeless–and you had eventually got them back. You could only imagine what he was feeling now; alone on a world that felt like his own but was also foreign, knowing he could save the planet but never save the people that mattered most to him. 

You admired him for working through that pain. He was fighting to save this Earth knowing full well it wouldn’t bring his family back; you couldn’t say you would do the same thing if you were in his position. In fact you knew you wouldn’t.

“So if what you’re saying is true Mr. Beck, then we’ve got quite the problem on our hands.” Fury said, his good eye peering intently over at the man.

“Yes. I’ve taken out this first one, but there are still three more. Based on what I’ve seen so far they should be appearing in the same places and times here as they did on my Earth. That means I can tell you when and where they’ll show up next, but I’m going to need some help to defeat them.” He stepped forward, looking Fury in the eye. “So, what do you think? Will you help me?” He asked, extending his hand once again. This time, Fury took it without hesitation.

“Of course.” He said, giving Beck a firm handshake. “After all, it sounds to me like you’re the one doing us a favor.” The men smirked at each other, before Fury released Beck’s hand and turned around.

“Agent Hill, call ahead to the task force and have them prepare our equipment for transport; as soon as we land back home we’ll need to be ready to mobilize to the next target’s location.”

“On it.” She replied, pulling out her phone as she walked out of the building.

“I’ve got a few calls of my own to make; world leaders to call, flights to arrange. Beck, you can come with us, unless you have other arrangement?” Fury asked, looking back at Beck.

“That would be great, thanks.” He replied, a friendly smile on his face. 

“Roger that.” He said, before looking over at you. “Luminary–”

“Please don’t call me that.” You cut him off immediately.

“Fine, whatever. Just stay here with Beck. When we’re ready to head out I’ll let you know.” He said, not waiting for you to respond before moving for the exit. You watched his back disappear through the door and sighed quietly. Couldn’t the world go five months without having an apocalypse? 

“What’s a luminary?” Beck’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you turned to face him.

“It’s nothing–just the name my brother made up for me when he thought I was going to join the Avengers.” You said dismissively.

“So you’re not an Avenger?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you want to be?”

“Not really.” You replied flatly. Then the room fell silent. 

This was a common occurrence for you now; five years alone with nothing but your memories and your work to keep you occupied had eroded your communication skills down until you were left with just enough to get you into awkward silences like this. You were more or less fine when you talked with Peter or May, but it seemed no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t hold a conversation with anyone else that lasted longer than just a few minutes.

“Oh!” His sudden exclamation made you jump. “I never did catch your name–your real name, I mean.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Sorry, that was rude of me, not introducing myself.” You reached out your hand hesitantly. “My name is Y/N Parker. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Beck.” He gently took your hand in his.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He smiled, the warmth of his hand beginning to seep into yours. “And please, call me Quentin.”

“Quentin Beck.” You repeated his name to yourself. “You know, your name sounds so familiar.” You said absently. He took his hand back from yours.

“Oh? Strange.” He said, looking away. “Well, maybe there’s a version of me on this Earth?” 

“Oh, right I guess that could happen. Or I could just have my names mixed up.” You laugh awkwardly, hoping you hadn’t sounded weird bringing it up.

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to working with you, Y/N.” He said, smiling at you.

“Yes, me too.” You said, returning his smile. You meant it too; after all he’s been through, for him to still be willing to fight, to help a planet that wasn’t his, you found that very admirable. True, you didn’t really want any part of this, but if you had to be involved you were glad he was around to help.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Quentin sighed as he sank into the comfortable seat of the jet. He felt a mixture of relief and exhaustion wash over him as he closed his eyes. Months of meticulous planning–all that time, energy, dedication–all leading to the day when he could finally set things into motion. He smirked, thinking back to how perfectly things had worked out.

The meeting with Fury had gone better than he ever could have anticipated; even after crafting the lie so carefully he had never expected it to be so easy. Fury believed him without even the slightest hint of doubt. Such a ridiculous story, and yet they’d bought it. Everything was going exactly like he’d planned it.

The sound of someone sitting in the seat across from him made his eyes open. You sat facing him, looking down at your phone while you typed quickly.

You had been the only surprise of the day. He’d known Peter Parker had a sister, but there was no information about you being a hero or having powers. You were not supposed to be here, yet here you sat, the one variable in his otherwise perfectly laid plan.

At first he was surprised to see you, then annoyed at the prospect of an unknown element ruining everything he worked for. Now however, he was intrigued. 

He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he felt safe in the knowledge that you didn’t have powers. If that was the case what he saw earlier–whatever it was–must have been coming from your suit. He might be able to use that to his advantage, or at the very least you would be easier to get rid of should that need arise. It was a very easy vulnerability to exploit after all. 

On top of that you were Spiderman’s sister; if he was going to get the kid to hand over EDITH it might actually be good to have you around. If you trusted him Peter would likely be more trusting as well, not to mention you could probably give him some insight into how the kid was doing, maybe how to get through to him more easily. 

The more he thought about it the more it seemed that you were a wellspring of potential usefulness. You looked up from your phone and he smiled at you. You returned his smile, somewhat hesitant, before turning to look out the window. 

This could be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

June 26, 2024

You stared out the window, stewing in the silence as you looked at the clouds below. You should say something. You thought, squeezing your hands tightly in your lap. There were comfortable silences, but this wasn’t one of them. Usually Fury would be doing all the talking, but he was in the front of the jet with agent Hill, leaving you and Quentin Beck alone in the back. You shifted lightly in your seat; the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became for you to think of what to say.

You chanced a quick glance at Quentin, and were surprised to find him starting right at you. He smiled when he saw you look at him, and you quickly snapped your gaze back to the window. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, and you could tell he was still looking at you.

“So y/n,” He started, seeing an opportunity to speak. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? There’s just a couple things I’ve been curious about.”

“I guess that’s fine.” You answered, looking back at him.

“Great.” His smile widened. He looked so handsome when he smiled, you’d noticed.

“So listen, I don’t want to overstep my bounds or anything here, but I was just wondering why you don’t want to be an Avenger? From what I can tell they’re a pretty popular group, and you’re already working for Nick Fury and doing the hero thing anyway, right? Seems like the obvious next step to me.”

“Oh, that.” Your shoulders slumped as you scooted down in your seat. “It’s not that deep; it’s just not something I’m interested in doing. I mean I’m only helping Fury so he’ll leave my brother alone, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh? Does your brother have powers too?”

“No–I mean yes he does; he’s Spiderman, actually. I’m the one who doesn’t have powers.”

“But you made that dome of light during the fight.”

“It’s my suit; it projects and solidifies light into whatever shape and density I want.”

“Solid light?” He repeat, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “Now that sounds interesting.” He paused, thinking. “I’m not really a science guy myself, but I’m pretty sure that kind of science is just theoretical–I mean, it was on my Earth, anyway. How did you come by that kind of tech exactly?”

“I made it myself actually.” You looked over at him, the look in his eyes suddenly seemed very intense. “Oh! Um, well I mean not all of it. I developed the technology to solidify light, but then I integrated that with tech I had, uh, borrowed from Stark Industries to make the whole process thought-controlled, then adapted that into a suit I could use to fight with.”

“You don’t say.” He said, a sly, charming smile spread thinly across his face. “So what you’re saying is that you’re actually a total genius. Good to know.” You blushed at the compliment, smiling a little to yourself. “Though, that does raise another question: If you didn’t want to be a hero, why make the suit? Surely there are other applications for that kind of technology.”

“Oh of course! With the right amount of imagination my technology has limitless potential.” You smiled enthusiastically. “That’s what I was working on in college, actually–not just figuring out how to make it work, but also thinking of all the ways it could be used.” You looked down as you balled your hands together in your lap. “But then the snap happened, my little brother–Peter–and my aunt were just suddenly gone. I left school, but I kept working on it alone for a um, a different application I was building. Five years later I get a call from Tony Stark saying he might have a way to bring everyone back. So I made the suit to help make that happen. I didn’t want to be a hero, I just wanted save my family.”

“You were willing to do whatever it took to get them back. I understand that.” You looked up and saw Quentin looking away, a pained expression on his face.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry. That was so insensitive of me; I-I shouldn’t have–”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize.” He said, reaching over to rest his hand on yours. You were surprised, but didn’t pull away. Normally even the most mildly personal gesture make you uncomfortable, but something about Quentin put you at ease. It was the first time in five years you felt comfortable around a stranger, and honestly it scared you a little. 

You were safe in the known, safe in the knowledge that there was only one person who really mattered. Quentin’s magnetic pull, the charismatic force he possessed that drew you in; that was unknown. That was dangerous. That was a variable in an otherwise predicable life that you had only just managed to put back together. You’d known this man for a matter of hours, yet somehow, when he stared at you, if felt like he was seeing all of you. 

Fury cleared hit throat; you hadn’t even noticed him. You quickly pulled your hands away.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked.

“Not at all.” Quentin replied, the smile still lingering on his face.

“Good, because we have some important business to discuss and I don’t need you getting distracted.” He sat down. “We’ll of course need more specifics about these monsters, but for now we need to know where and when these next attacks are going to happen.”

“The next attack will happen in three days, in Morocco.” Quentin said confidently. “After that, there will be an attack in Venice on July 3rd, then the last will be in Prague, on July 5th.” 

“What? No, that can’t be right.” You said, shooting up out of your seat.

“No, I’m 100% certain.” Quentin assured you. You stared at him, worry spread across your face. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Peter–his class, they’re going on a trip. They’ll be in Venice on the 3rd.”

“That’s convenient.” Fury said, leaning back in his seat. You shot him a nasty glare.

“Excuse me?” 

“I was going to call him in, so it’s convenient he’s already going to be there.” Fury repeated.

“That’s not the deal Fury. I work with you, you keep Peter out of the fighting, that’s how this works.”

“That’s how it works when the world’s not at stake, but the situation has clearly changed.”

“I don’t care!“ You shouted. ”Call someone else then if you think it’s that serious!” 

“There is no one else.” Fury said, raising his voice. “No one else is available; it’s just you and your brother now.”

“He is a child. He’s a confused 16 year old boy in mourning who just wants to be normal for one summer. Why can’t you just leave him alone?”

“I don’t have a choice.” Fury said, standing up. He sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry Y/N.” With that he walked away, leaving you angry and frustrated. 

“Y/N, I know this must be hard for you.” Beck’s voice cut through the heavy air. “I’m sorry I have to put this on you. I understand you just want to protect your brother, and I wish I could just say I’ll handle it, but I just don’t know if we can beat them without help, and if we fail it’s all over.” 

You sighed, shoulders falling as the tension you’d built up released. You knew he was right; it’s not like Peter could live on a planet that didn’t exist. Still, it felt so unfair. He had been through so much, you just wanted to keep him safe.

“I’m going to go call Peter.” You said, forcing a small smile on your face as you walked to the other side of the jet.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … 

You stood at the far end of the jet, whispering into your phone with a concerned expression on your face. Quentin watched you, his mind filled with possibilities. 

In the few hours since he’d met you, you’d transitioned from an unwelcome surprise, to an intriguing variable, and now, finally, to an invaluable tool. Solid light. Quentin smiled to himself, hardly believing what he’d just learned. Someone lesser may not understand the implications of technology like that, but to him the value was unquantifiable. 

Using his life’s work, he was able to create monsters so realistic they had fooled the likes of Nick Fury, the most skeptical, paranoid man alive. His projections were beautiful, elaborate, and incredibly complex, but they were, at the end of the day, just an illusion. It all had to be perfectly timed, perfectly programmed, perfectly executed. One slip up, one single miscalculation, and the illusion shatters. One mistake is all it would take to show everyone it wasn’t real.

But what if it was real? What if the monsters were solid beings? His projected persona, flying around shooting blasts of smoke; what if he was real? The idea that his illusions, currently just beams of light made to look real, could have physical form was too inciting for words. The longevity of the project, the number of scenarios that could be created, the loose ends that could be tied up; the possibilities that kind of technology would unlock are too numerous to imagine. 

Quentin was a man of science, but it was hard to look at this as anything other than fate.

All these new ideas he had, all the new opportunities, it all counted on you. It wouldn’t be enough to just take your suit, he wasn’t confident that he could integrate your technology with his, much less program it to match what he was envisioning. It wasn’t an option he had even considered before, but now that he knew it was possible he wouldn’t take no for an answer, he needed this to move forward. But he didn’t just need your technology, he needed you. 

He knew he needed you to trust him, but that had already been the plan. He still needed EDITH, and that meant gaining Peter Parker’s trust, something he knew you could help him with. More than that, more than trust, he needed you to understand him. He needed you to see things from his perspective, he needed you to hate Stark as much as he did, and he needed you to see what it was he was trying to accomplish. More than anything, he needed you to want to help him. 

He’d play the part for now, keep up the facade he’d created until he was sure you were ready to join him. You’d responded well to him before, his charm clearly worked on you. That was a start. He could bolster his position by being a supportive figure to Peter–that worked out, since that was a part of his plan from the beginning.

That left the final touch; romance. Nothing could inspire blind loyalty like love. You also seemed to have some lingering, emotional damage from your time during the snap. It meant you were vulnerable; he could use that. He’d make you so completely devoted to him you’d do anything to make him happy, no matter the consequences.

“Sorry I got so upset earlier.” You said shyly, taking your seat in front of him. 

“Not at all.” Quentin smiled. “I understand, you’re just trying to be a good sister and protect your little brother.” You shifted in your seat, and Quentin saw another opportunity. “You can talk to me, if it helps.” You looked up at him, eyes filled with hesitation.

“I just- I, I feel responsible for him. It was like that before, when we were kids, but now it’s so much stronger. It’s not just that I lost him once already, things are just different between us now.” You sighed, looking pensive.

“It must be hard for you, taking all that responsibility on by yourself–especially now, after what you must have gone through while he was gone.” Quentin said, concern oozing from every word.

“Yes! Yes that’s exactly it. Those five years I spent thinking he was dead–it’s like they just don’t exist to him. We used to be five years apart in age, and now suddenly I’m 10 years older than him. We act the same on the outside, like it’s all fine, but I know things are different now. I’m different. And poor Peter has to try and act like it’s all okay, all while trying to shoulder the grief of losing Tony Stark and the weight of the legacy Tony left behind.” You stopped suddenly, turning your attention back to him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you.” You smiled hesitantly. “I’m not usually this much of a sharer. I guess it’s just nice to have someone to talk to; it’s usually just Peter and May, and it’s not like I can talk to them about any of this.” 

God, Quentin almost felt bad for tricking you. 

Almost.

“There’s no reason to apologize. I understand; it’s nice, having someone you can trust. I feel the same way.” He said, adding in a soft, charming smile.

“That’s kind of you.” You said sincerely.

“I mean it.” Quentin urged. “You can trust me. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind. I’ll listen.”

“Well, I guess.” You started, looking guilty. “I guess there are just times when I think Peter would have been better off if he’d never even met Tony Stark, you know? I mean he was a good mentor to Peter, but he put so much responsibility on him. He dragged my brother–a 15 year old boy– into this world of superheros and monsters, then he died and left him nothing but pain and a legacy too large for any one person to fill. I don’t know, I guess that sometimes…sometimes” You sighed, glancing out the window. “Sometimes I just hate Tony Stark for that.”

It took every ounce of willpower Quentin had not to smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did have to go make some very minor changes to chapters 1 & 2 after I realized the air elemental shows up AFTER the earth one in Mexico(so technically the air elemental fight would have happened three days AFTER the earth elemental, making it like 5 days before Venice). It's only a very minor change, but this chapter starts off right after that fight so I thought I'd clarify for anyone that read the first two parts and actually remembers enough to realize the continuity error. 
> 
> This is much harder to write accurately when I have to pay $15 every time I want to rewatch the source material. :')

June 29, 2025

“You did good out there today.” Quentin said, coming up behind you as you sat, legs dangling off the edge of the rooftop. You sighed, staring out over the small Moroccan town. Illuminated in the moonlight, you would never know it was the sight of a battle just a few hours before. You supposed that was the nature of the world these days; so used to being on the brink of death, they were quick to move on once the danger had past.

“Thanks, but you did most of the heavy lifting.” You replied, not turning.

“Not at all. It’s because you were there that I was able to fight at my best. I knew you had my back.” He said, sitting down beside you. “We make a good team.” He smirk, holding up an unmarked bottle of what you could only assume was some form of alcohol.

“What, you want to celebrate? Don’t we still have two more to go?” You laughed lightly.

“In my experience,” He started, pulling the top off the bottle. “It’s worth celebrating every victory you can; you never know when your luck will run out.” He took a big swig straight out of the bottle, before handing it to you.

“What is it?” You ask, taking the bottle. You sniffed the opening; it smelled like booze and fruit.

“Don’t know; kind of tastes like moonshine.” Seeing your skeptical look, he shrugged. “It was all I could find on short notice.” He smiled, and you worried silently about how hard it was becoming to say no when he looked at you like that. 

“Well, when in Morocco.” You said finally, tipping the bottle back. You took a large gulp, coughing as you felt it burn its way down your throat. Quentin laughed as you handed him the bottle back.

“There, see? I knew you could let loose if you tried.” He joked.

“I guess I just needed someone to be a bad influence on me.” You replied, smiling at him. He laughed, a full, deep sound straight from his chest.

“If trying to get you out of your shell is being a bad influence then I’ll proudly take that title.” He said, taking another drink and passing the bottle back to you. “Life’s too short to sit on the sidelines forever.” You considered his words for a moment, thinking about just how much you had missed out on these past five years.

“Maybe.” You replied flatly, taking another drink. You took one more big gulp, the burn less severe this time, before setting the bottle down and laying back. You stared up at the stars–vivid and beautiful–and thought about how you never got to see them like this in the city. “Do you ever wonder if you made the right choice coming here? Like, is this really what you’re supposed to be doing? Where you’re supposed to be? Or was it all just some sort of cosmic mistake?”

“Getting existential on me already? We only just started drinking.” He joked. 

“I’m serious Quentin.” You said, propping yourself on your elbows. “What if you go through all this a second time, fighting these monsters all over again, and we still fail? After everything you’ve gone through, having to go through it again on a new planet, with people you don’t even know, it just seems unfair.”

“Well, I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to worry. I know this is where I’m meant to be, and this time, I’m going to succeed.” He replied, looking determined. You stared at him, his eyes a pale blue in the moonlight, before sighing and falling back on your back.

“I wish I was as sure as you.” You said absently, staring up at the sky. “It just feels like I’ve been floating all this time. Following the current, going from place to place but never really getting anywhere. I thought getting Peter back would help, but it still feels the same. I don’t know what I want anymore–who I am now–or what I’m supposed to be doing.” He looked down at you, his expression pensive, before he laughed lightheartedly.

“Okay, no more mystery moonshine for you.” He said jokingly, moving the bottle away so it no longer sat between you. You smacked his arm playfully, though you couldn’t deny you’d begun to feel the alcohols effects start to tingle through your body. 

“Shut up! I’m trying to be serious here! Didn’t you tell me I could talk to you about anything?” He smirked.

“You’re right, I did.” He said, sinking down to lay on his side. His muscles bulged under his armor as his arm flexed, his head resting on his knuckles. “I am glad you feel like you can talk to me; and for the record, I know how you feel.”

“You do?” You asked, rolling your head to face him. 

“Yes, I do. I used to feel that way too.” You stared up at him expectantly, hoping he’d tell you more. Finally, he sighed, giving in to your silent pleading. “I trusted someone once, gave him something important to me, and he betrayed me. He took my life’s work and made it into a joke, then he stabbed me in the back and left me with nothing.”

“That’s awful.” You said sincerely. “I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you.” He smiled, but hatred still lingered in his eyes.

“Afterwards I felt like you do now; listless, directionless, only a vague notion of where I was going in life.”

“How did you make that feeling go away?” You asked hopefully.

“I found a new goal–something to work toward, something to fight for.”

“So you’re saying I need something to fight for?” You sighed, clearly disappointed. “But I already have that! The only reason I’m fighting at all is because of Peter.”

“Maybe that’s your problem.”

“What does that mean?” You said, sitting up on your arms.

“I don’t want to overstep, but think about it. With everything you’ve told me, it sounds like your whole life has just been about you looking out for your brother. After your parents died, you took it upon yourself to take care of him. When your uncle died, you delayed going to college, something you had been looking forward to for years, just so you could help your aunt support him. Then, when you thought he’d died, it’s like your life suddenly lost purpose, right? You lost all direction. Until you learned you could bring him back, then you created this suit–the accumulation of your life’s work, the one thing you’d done for yourself–and risked your life to save him. Now he’s back, and instead of trying to get your life back on track the way you want it, you’re out here fighting for Fury just so you can give your brother the chance to be a normal teenager. You’ve giving up your whole life just for him.” 

You stared at him silently as you processed what he was saying. You wanted to be mad, yell at him and tell him he was wrong, that he didn’t know what he was talking about. But was he wrong? Part of your couldn’t help but consider how much sense it made. That same part of you couldn’t deny you’d come to the same conclusions on your own before, when you were alone and the dark, heavy thoughts came creeping into your mind. 

When Peter was born your parents had told you it was your responsibility to look after him. You were his big sister, you had to take care of him. Then they died, and it’s like their words became a commandment, something you had to do, no matter what. He was right, you had been excited for college; excited to get away from New York and, yes, excited to put some distance between you and your family for the first time in your life. You wanted to get out on your own, live your life on your own terms, work on the project you had been dreaming of for as long as you could remember. 

Then Ben died and you had to once again put your brothers needs before your own. You’d stayed home, worked crappy jobs to help May support Peter, became the shoulder Peter needed to cry on to get through the loss. Then, finally, you were able to get away. At college you finally felt like you could breath; Peter was getting older, he didn’t need you around all the time. Then he got his powers, and you were worried, but still proud of him and what he was trying to do. 

Then Tony Stark got involved; you didn’t approve of him pulling Peter into his personal problems with the other Avengers, but at least he was helping Peter get through all the hero stuff you couldn’t help him with. He was there, he was a mentor, even a father-figure to Peter, and for a little while it felt like the responsibility of taking care of your brother wasn’t all on your shoulders anymore.

Then snap, and suddenly he was just gone. You’d felt so guilty, so selfish. You’d let yourself think of him as a burden that was being lifted, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but still being glad to not have to worry about him. Then, just like that he was gone, and you regretted every second you’d been away. You’d wished for more space, for more independence, and then your brother had disappeared forever, and somehow it felt like your fault. Like, by wishing for more freedom from him, the universe decided to take him away all together.

Then, after those five dark years you’d spent alone, you got Peter–the real Peter–back. After everything, you couldn’t let yourself think about going back and picking up where you’d left off. You had gotten him back, now you had to keep protecting him. But what was the cost? Quentin was right, your whole life had been about taking care of your brother. What would you even be doing now, if you weren’t out here fighting for him? What else could you fight for?

“Y/N?” Quentin voice broke you out of your trance. “You okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“N-no, it’s okay.” You said finally. You were definitely feeling more lightheaded, the alcohol was getting to you now. “You’re right; I have always fought for my brother's sake, but what else can I do? If I don’t look out for him, who will?”

“Maybe you just need to step back and let him fight for himself; after all, the kid has superpowers now, I’m pretty sure he can handle it.” He said with a smirk. “You know, if anything, you constantly looking out for him may be doing him more harm than good. How is he ever going to learn how to take care of himself if you’re around doing everything for him? What’s he going to do when you’re not there anymore?”

“I guess that’s a good point.” You said, dejected. “But then what I’m I supposed to fight for? My whole life, my only goal was looking out for Peter. If I’m not doing that, than what?”

“What do you want to do?”

“What do I want?” You repeated, almost confused by the question.

“Yeah, what do you want? Do you want to go back to school? Do you want to fight crime? Do crime? Do you want to settle down and have a family? What is it that you want to do?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. What do you want?” He repeated, more forcefully than before.

“I, I guess I want to fight these monsters with you?”

“Okay, great. Then what?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”

“Yes you have, you know you have.” He urged. “You know what you want. Just say it. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want to stay with you!” You blurted out. You felt your face grow hot, a mixture of the alcohol and the blood rushing to your cheeks. “I want to stay with you.” You repeated, quieter this time. “I, if I’m honest, I just want to be wherever you are. That’s all. I don’t care if I’m fighting monsters or saving the world or whatever you want, I, I just want to be with you.”

You laid quietly in the dark, the silence nearly a physical being between you. You were looking right at him, but you couldn’t read his face. His expressions were usually so clear, but now his face, half covered in darkness, was unreadable.

“Is that really what you want?” He finally asked, his eyes holding yours in a serious, tension-filled gaze.

“Yes.” 

“To stay with me, no matter what?” He asked again, leaning closer to you.

“Yes.” You repeated. “I know, that must sound crazy, we barely know each other–”

“Everyone’s a little crazy sometimes.” He said, leaning in closer.

“I-it’s selfish, with everything, I shouldn’t–”

“Everyone’s selfish. Don’t we deserve to be, after everything we’ve been through?” His face was so close now.

“I–” Your breath caught in your throat. Your lips were almost touching.

“What do you want? Tell me.” His eyes were locked with yours, you could feel his breath when he spoke.

“Quentin,” You breathed. “I, I want you.” The next instant you could feel his lips on yours. The kiss was hot, intense; you were both a little drunk, and it was making it all seem so much more urgent.

You released each other before swiftly coming back in for more. He positioned his arms on either side of you, resting on his forearms as he leaned you back. One of his hands came up to cup your face, while your arms went up to wrap around his neck. You could taste the alcohol on his lips and you smelled it on his breath as he released you, breathing heavy. He moved to lay kisses down your jaw, nibbling lightly on your earlobe before moving his attention back to your mouth.

You were a mess of breath and need. Mouths pulled apart to crashed together again. Your tongues mingled together, a hot, sloppy mess in the heat of the moment. Your hands slid down his back as his slid into your hair. You pulled him closer, hugging, holding, getting him as close as you possibly could. 

It had been so long since you had wanted something for yourself. Now that you had it, you were never letting go.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … 

Quentin watched you sleeping peacefully in the dark. The alcohol had settled enough in your system to make you unavoidably sleepy and you’d drifted off, still knotted in his arms. Just when things were getting good. He’d thought, though he couldn’t really complain.

He had known it would be easy, making a space for himself in your heart, but he hadn’t planned for it to happen so quickly. You had surprised him with your boldness; he hadn’t expected you to be so forward. Then again, he hadn’t expected to be so happy about it either.

Yes, this is what he’d wanted. You falling so completely into his trap, falling in love with him so he could manipulate you that much easier. But he hadn’t thought he would enjoy it this much. The idea of being wanted–the idea of being wanted by you; he hadn’t realized it would feel this good. He liked it. The way you’d looked at him, the way you said his name, it was all starting to feel too good, too real.

He needed to focus. Things weren’t nearly finished yet. He would take you to Venice, he’d put on his next big show and finally meet Peter Parker. Peter would get EDITH from Fury, the three of you would fight the last illusion in Prague, he’d get Peter to hand over control of EDITH and then finally, finally he’d use EDITH to put on one more, show-stopping fight. Then, with Peter out of the picture and Fury disposed of, he could tell you everything. 

He knew now that you would join him once he told you the truth, that you would understand.

You stirred in your sleep. Quentin smiled. He knew you would understand him.


End file.
